


Your Voice Is My Favourite Sound

by halfsweet



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 02:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10844691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfsweet/pseuds/halfsweet
Summary: “I’ve got more wit, a better kissA hotter touch, a better-”“Fuck.”He breathes out in time with the song, and, holy shit, call him narcissistic or vain or whatever, but he honestly couldn’t give a single fuck about it whenPatrick has a thing for his voice.Or: Brendon accidentally finds out that his boyfriend has a voice kink.





	Your Voice Is My Favourite Sound

**Author's Note:**

  * For [herprettysleeper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/herprettysleeper/gifts).



> okay so I was listening to [But It's Better If You Do](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ifgJlJ_zp5Q) and [Lying Is The Most Fun](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Owk5YXluv9M) and somehow herprettysleeper and I have this headcanon where Patrick has a thing for Brendon's voice (he totally does okay)
> 
> Hope you like it! :)

“Babe?” Brendon calls out into the empty bedroom when he fails to find his boyfriend of two years in the living room and the kitchen. He enters the bedroom and tugs his tie loose before plopping himself down on the bed. “You in here?”

A muffled voice comes from the bathroom, and Brendon smiles to himself. It’s already half an hour past noon, and judging from the unmade bed and the sound of the running shower, Patrick must have just woken up a few minutes before or when he got back. He has always find it pretty endearing that despite the fact that he’s the younger one in their relationship, it’s actually Patrick who has troubles waking up in the morning like a normal person.

He remembers trying to wake him up once, and he got pelted with a pillow in return.

Huffing in amusement at the memory, he slides up the bed and inhales the soothing scent left behind by Patrick, then sees Patrick’s phone lying innocuously on one of the pillows with the earphones still attached to the jack. He reaches out for it before opening the music player and plugging the earphones into his ears.

He knows Patrick’s going to be a while in the shower, so he figures he’ll just kill time by listening to some songs until Patrick comes out all fresh and menthol-scented and ready for a round of cuddles.

When he opens to check the playlist though, he’s not surprised to find that Patrick’s already made a few of it.

_Mellow_

_Focus_

_Active_

_Samples_

_Lullabies_

But what really catches his attention is the untitled playlist. Literally. It’s _literally_ titled _Untitled_ , and he knows his boyfriend, okay. With their ADHD, both of them can be forgetful at times, so that’s why Patrick established a rule for them to label or jot down anything—events, interviews, photoshoots, birthdays, _anniversaries_ —on everywhere as reminders.

So, for Patrick to _not_ name one of his playlist is pretty weird and slightly out of character.

He shrugs it off, though. They both have short attention span anyway, so Patrick must had been distracted when he was in the middle of making the playlist.

He presses play and closes his eyes as he waits for the first song to play. He opens his eyes when a familiar voice and lyric flow from the earphones and into his ears. Lifting the phone up in front of his face, his eyebrows begin to furrow in confusion when he reads the title.

The song currently being played is a live performance of _Lying Is The Most Fun_ that he performed together with Spencer a few months back, but for the love of God he can’t remember for what. He taps on the back button to see the rest of the songs in the playlist, and, okay, if he weren’t surprised before, then he definitely is now when he sees that most—no, _all_ —of the songs are from Panic.

He’s not at all freaked out about it, no. In fact, he’s actually fucking _flattered_ that his boyfriend made a playlist of live version of Panic’s songs.

Although, he does wonder about it once the song ends and another song comes on. Patrick can just go to the Artist’s section and click on Panic, and he can play all the songs there. He can listen to the clean and high quality studio version instead of the gritty and shitty live version.

He would’ve let the matter go and forget all about it, but he doesn’t. Curiosity has planted itself in his brain, growing faster and bigger the more he’s thinking about it and the more Panic’s songs are playing from Patrick’s phone.

It takes him a while, but he finally has a clue when he notices the similarity between all the songs in the playlist. No, scratch that. _He has the fucking answer._

In the _Untitled_ playlist consisting of several live versions of Panic’s songs, he _hears_ it. It’s his own voice, okay, so of fucking course he knows what’s up with the playlist.

He sang all the songs in _low notes_ , and there are some parts where his voice got all breathy because he thought it would be fun to hear the fangirls go gaga over it.

He honestly doesn’t expect that _his own boyfriend_ would go gaga over it, too.

A smirk unconsciously grazes his lips as he plays the first song again, this time knowing all the full details of the song even if the performance is like, a few months back.

 _“I’ve got more wit, a better kiss  
_ _A hotter touch, a better-”_

 _“Fuck.”_ He breathes out in time with the song, and holy shit, call him narcissistic or vain or whatever, but he honestly couldn’t give a single fuck about it when _Patrick has a thing for his voice._

His smirk gets impossibly wider, if that’s even possible. Although, he still needs to try the hypothesis out, and it’s almost like Lady Luck is on his side when Patrick chooses that instant to step out of the bathroom, looking all warm in one of his worn out shirts and a towel wrapped around his waist.

He takes out the earphones and exits the player, then sets the phone down on the bed. When he rolls onto his back, Patrick has already put his pajama pants on and is skipping towards the bed, his face beaming and shining and, _God,_ he loves his boyfriend so much.

Patrick slides in beside him on the bed, snuggling into his side and throwing his arm across Brendon’s torso, murmuring, “Hey. Missed you.”

“Missed you too.” Brendon lets out a soft chuckle and pulls him even closer if possible, his hand automatically going to Patrick’s bleached hair and fingers massaging his scalp lightly. “Sorry I didn’t wake you up this morning before I go.”

“It’s fine.” Patrick mumbles against his chest and lets out a small yawn. “At least you’re back now.”

Yeah, he’s back now, a little stinky and sweaty from today’s schedule, but Patrick is just so warm beside him and so soft, and he can’t find it in himself to pull away to get a quick shower. So, he plays with Patrick’s damp hair, traces patterns on his back, gives him light kisses every now and then, and Patrick shifts so he’s resting his head on his shoulder, one leg slotted between his.

Normally, Brendon would’ve closed his eyes and enjoy the calm atmosphere while it lasts, but not this time. Not when he just found out that Patrick may have a voice kink.

His mind has already conjured up with a plan, and he’d be damned if doesn’t do it right at this moment. With Patrick still dozing off in his arms, he rolls onto his side and ducks his head down near Patrick’s ear.

“Babe.” He calls, using his low voice. He fights back the smirk that’s forming on his face when Patrick’s body goes tense. “You wanna do anything today?”

Patrick makes a noise at the back of his throat and buries himself closer to him. Other people would’ve thought that Patrick is back to being his usual sleepy and grumpy self again, but Brendon’s not other people.

He sees the tip of Patrick’s ears go crimson, and he doesn’t have to check to know that Patrick’s face share the same shade of red.

Fucking adorable, really.  

“Okay, we’ll just stay in bed all day then,” he says and nuzzles the messy mop of hair. Then, he proceeds to tell him about what happened during an interview earlier that day, and halfway through, he pretends to not notice Patrick squirming and shifting around in his arms or the fact that there’s something poking at his thigh.

He just pulls him closer and continues to talk about his day.

-

Since that little revelation, Brendon tries to use _the_ _voice_ on Patrick every chance he gets. There’s this one time in the kitchen when Patrick was making a snack, and he was humming a song under his breath, even shaking his hips a little.

Brendon walked up to him from behind, making his presence known by wrapping his arms around his middle. Patrick tilted his head up to give him a quick kiss before he resumed with what he was doing. The kitchen was filled with the sound of Patrick humming, and Brendon picked that moment to carry out his plan.

He began to croon in Patrick’s ear, keeping his voice low and deep. Patrick immediately stopped humming, his body growing tense, and even when he’s singing, Brendon could still hear Patrick’s small hitch of breath. He couldn’t help the smirk on his face as he continued to sing.

And if he caught Patrick subtly grinding himself into the edge of the counter, he didn’t say anything or mention it to him.

-

So maybe this whole thing has become some sort of an ego trip for him, but it’s not like he can help it. And it’s not a bad thing, okay. Patrick gets off to his voice, and he gets off to watching Patrick get off to his voice. It’s a win-win situation.

And he tries again one night, when they both have clear schedule for the rest of the weekend.

The bedroom is surrounded by darkness, but the moonlight from the outside spills into their room and illuminates the image under him.

Patrick is panting and writhing on the bed, attempting to move against the vice-like grip Brendon has on his hips. His red lips are parted, giving way for moans and whines and pleas for him to move.

Brendon doesn’t, though. He has Patrick pinned down on the bed while he’s buried deep inside the older man, not moving and drinking in the debauched sight underneath him. An idea pops into his mind out of nowhere, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips before he leans down and starts to whisper filthy things in Patrick’s ear with _the_ voice.

He hides his smug grin in the crook of Patrick’s neck when Patrick convulses under him, his high-pitched moan cutting the silence in the room as warm liquid splatters over their chests.

It would be a huge lie to say that he’s not proud of himself for making Patrick come with just his voice and without touching him, but he’s not a liar, so he’s actually pretty damn fucking proud and pleased with himself.

-

It happens a few more times after that; him trying to get Patrick off with his voice without Patrick catching onto what he’s doing, that is. And he’s always setting up some sort of challenge each time he succeeds.

This time, the challenge is public. As in, he’s going to use his voice on Patrick in public and get him off at the same time.

-

He and Patrick are at a restaurant for dinner with a group of their friends, and the atmosphere is fun and casual and relaxing. And that’s probably why his mind decides that this is the perfect time to execute his plan.

While their friends are distracted and talking to one another about what to eat, he moves closer to Patrick and whispers, “What are you thinking of having?”

The effect is immediate and instantaneous. Patrick’s face turns red, his shoulders square and stiff, and when he inspects closer, his chest is heaving as he attempts to control his breathing.

Growing more confident—and after checking that their friends are not paying attention to them—he continues with _the voice._ “Something light? Heavy?”

He pulls back a little to see Patrick’s reaction, and he’s not disappointed at what he sees. Patrick is squeezing his eyes shut, lips moving as he mumbles something under his breath, and it takes Brendon about three seconds to realize that Patrick is _actually counting to ten._

God, this ego trip is going to cost him something big one day, but today is not that day, so he’s going to take advantage of it while he can.

He places his hand on Patrick’s thigh under the table, slowly rubbing back and forth as he slides up and up and _up._  “Something hot and creamy?”

When his fingers graze over his crotch, Patrick abruptly stands up from his seat, attracting attention from their friends. As if realizing what he’s just done, Patrick’s face grows even more red. “I, um, I- I gotta- uh, restroom.”

After Patrick leaves the table, everyone turns to him, asking him what happened. Brendon shrugs, putting on the most innocent expression he can muster before he stands up as well, telling them that he’s going to check up on Patrick.

The restroom is empty when he gets inside, and all the stalls are open except for one. He walks over to the stall and knocks twice. “Babe? You okay?”

The door opens only marginally, and Brendon squeezes himself in before locking it behind him. Then, he turns to look at Patrick, who’s leaning against the wall, flushing and panting with a painfully obvious bulge in his pants.

Brendon doesn’t waste his time pinning Patrick against the wall and kissing him roughly, his thigh pressing against Patrick’s crotch. He swallows all the moans and whimpers leaking out from the blond’s mouth, and when they both pull away for air, he nibbles at his earlobe before he does what he always does.

The more filth he spouts in Patrick’s ear, the more desperate Patrick ruts against his leg. It doesn’t take too long before Patrick’s clutching shakily at his biceps, his head thrown back against the wall as his eyelids flutter shut, mouth dropping open in a silent moan.

He slides his hand down between their bodies to find the front of Patrick’s pants damp. It’s a good thing that Patrick decides to wear a black one that night, and if he untucks his shirt, the tails are long enough to cover the stain.

Pressing a kiss to his forehead, Brendon takes a step back to give him some space and air. When Patrick finally catches his breath, he doesn’t look up at him, though his cheeks are tinted pink. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“What?” Brendon blinks.

“I know what you’ve been doing.” Patrick mumbles quietly, almost embarrassed. “You’re always doing that- that voice thing lately. You knew I have a thing for it.”

As much as he loves watching Patrick getting all flustered, he doesn’t love it when Patrick starts to get the slightest bit upset. He takes Patrick in his arms and nuzzles his neck, taking in his scent that he loves so much. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, y’know. Let me tell you a secret.”

“What?” Patrick murmurs defeatedly.

Brendon smiles and tightens his arms around him. “I have a thing for you having a thing for my voice.”

Patrick’s shoulders begin to shake, and not more than a few seconds later, the sound of his small laughter echoes in the empty stall. “That’s not even a thing,” Patrick says as he pulls away to look up at him, a smile playing on his lips.

Brendon places his hands on Patrick’s waist, trying to pull him back, but Patrick refuses to budge. “It totally is. I have it, so it’s totally a thing.”

“Sure, B.” Patrick replies as he stands on his toes to give him a kiss on the tip of his nose. Brendon feels like he just falls in love all over again when he sees the sparkling glint in those blue eyes. “Whatever you say.”

“Can we go home now? To, y’know.” He gestures down to his own crotch. “Because I’m not doing it here.”

Patrick shakes his head and laughs, and he moves to unlock the door. “After. We’ll have our dinner, then we can go back and do anything you want.”

“Promise?” Brendon follows him out, and they both wash their hands and fix their appearance, attempting to not look like they just had a quickie in the restroom of a restaurant.

Instead of giving him an answer, Patrick smirks at him before sashaying out the door, leaving him alone inside. Brendon gapes at his retreating back, then breathes out as he shakily runs his fingers through his hair. _God, this man is going to be the death of him._

Once he’s calmed down just enough to not have his way and make a scene in the middle of the restaurant, he joins everyone back at the table and pulls Patrick up by the arm before Patrick even gets to sit down.

“I’m not feeling so good, guys.” The lie comes easily through his teeth, and he even puts on a pained expression on his face to make it even more convincing. “I think I ate something bad for lunch.”

“Oh, that’s terrible,” says one of the girls. “You should go home and rest.”

Brendon nods slowly, jutting his lower lip out in a small pout before he scrunches his face in a grimace with a hiss. God, he's so good at acting he should consider auditioning for roles in movies after this. “We’ll join you next time.”

Once they bid goodbye to their friends and get into their car, Brendon thinks he may have broken a few laws on their way home, but all that doesn’t matter when Patrick’s wheezing and laughing beside him, radiating pure happiness that he can't help but laugh along with him as they drive into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> if that isn't a shitty ending, i don't know what is


End file.
